Page 66 of His Secret Obsession
“She was a hard woman to love,” I admit quietly. That familiar weight settles in my chest, the guilt of not missing her. Not caring as much as I should. What kind of son doesn’t miss his own mother?
I swallow. “I hate that Luke missed out on having his mother around, but I don’t have very many happy memories of her myself. I never told him that. I’ve always let him assume she was like any other loving mother.” I sigh. “Maybe that’s wrong, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. That she was a manipulative, cold woman.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Dad did his best to make up for it, but she was high on pills and drugs a lot. I vaguely remember getting off the school bus and finding her passed out on the couch a couple times and not having anything to eat until Dad got home from work. He tried to get her into rehab, but she wasn’t interested. Then when she was pregnant with Luke, there were complications and…” I trailoff with a shrug. “I’m not sure what would have happened if she hadn’t died. Maybe she would have gotten clean. Maybe she would have been a better mother to me and Luke. But I guess I’ll never know.”
“If she couldn’t love you the way you deserved, then she missed out. And that’s on her.” Maddie’s voice is fierce, her lips set into a scowl. I clamp my own lips down, trying to conceal my smile. She’s the complete opposite of my mother in every way: warm, caring, protective, selfless. No wonder I fell in love with her.
I kiss her forehead. “It was a long time ago.”
Maddie blinks up at me, seeming to understand my silent request to move on. Her soft lips brush over mine, kissing me tenderly. Then she pulls away, laying her head back down on my chest. I bury my face into her hair, breathing in the scent of vanilla shampoo. My arms tighten around her waist, and she snuggles into my embrace. Her body relaxes until eventually the light snores coming from her chest tell me she’s fallen asleep. Her eyelids flutter as she dreams, a warm feeling expanding inside my chest as I drink in the peaceful expression on her face.
When my phone chimes with a text, I ignore it. But then I spot Luke’s name across the screen, my shoulders tensing when I see the time. It’s after midnight. Why would he be texting me at this hour? Slowly easing my arm over towards the nightstand so I don’t wake Maddie, I hold the phone up to my face. The bright light floods the room, making my eyes squint against the glare.
Luke: How’s Maddie?
Luke: Does she talk about me?
My stomach twists, my palms becoming sweaty. I type out a text only to erase it, type out another text, erase that one, and type something else out.
Are you drinking again?
Luke: I miss her man
Luke: I want her back
Luke: Do you think she would take me back?
My lips part as I stare at the screen, something cold spreading through my chest. My fingers begin shaking as dread crawls up my spine.
Why didn’t I see this coming?
Fuck.
Maddison
“Ican’t believe Irene let us both off on a Friday.” Hazel bounces on the balls of her feet, running a hand through the shiny red locks around her shoulders.
“I can’t believe that I let Jax talk me into this.”
I glance sideways at Hazel, sighing from where I stand next to a booth inside the Cedarwood Valley High School gym. Nodding politely at people walking past, I wonder for the umpteenth time how I let him convince me it was a good idea to enter this year’s Cedarwood Winter Festival as a vendor.
Jax is working today, but thankfully Hazel agreed to help me.
Shifting on my feet, I wipe my sweaty palms across the thighs of my jeans. Then I smooth a hand down the front of my army-green blouse, fixing imaginary wrinkles as I try not to wobble on heeled boots. Next to me, Hazel wears black, ripped jeans with a red, wool sweater. A sharp burst of pain makes me grunt, my head whipping around to send her an exasperated glare when her elbow jabs into my side.
“Stop fidgeting,” she whisper-hisses, her index finger poking me on the shoulder. “You are a confident, intelligent businesswoman.”
I roll my eyes. I’m selling handmade goods at an arts and crafts festival. I would hardly classify myself as a businesswoman.
“Gorgeous! How much for this?” A wavy-haired blonde woman with a baby strapped to her chest points at the circular shelf I just finished this morning. Carved within the circle are three mountaintops, a shelf running through the bottom of each. Each mountaintop is painted white.
“Oh, I—um, that’s…” I shoot Hazel ahelp me nowlook. How did I forget to price my own items?
Businesswoman, my ass.
Hazel beams, turning a megawatt smile on the woman as she steps forward and quotes a price off the top of her head.
